LaFae
by Snow Glows Blue
Summary: There's something odd about the Marquis de Lafayette. Washington can tell, of course he can tell, but it isn't until Hamilton points it out that he really realizes. (Fae AU, Washington/Lafayette/Hamilton preslash)


It was late summer, the heat sweltering. Washington wished only that cooling spells lasted longer, though he suspected that had something to do with them being Hamilton's. The boy clearly had power, he'd shown that with the lightning that had crackled from his fingertips at Brandywine, but what he lacked was training, and the control that came with it.

"Lafayette," he found himself asking, and the boy made a soft noise in acknowledgement without looking up. "How is magical training done in France?"

That made Lafayette pause. "An apprenticeship, I believe, for children who show obvious talent. Like _notre petit lion._ Tutors for those who do not, if they can afford it. I would not know."

Washington raised an eyebrow. "Everyone is taught? Even those with no talent?" It seemed like a waste of resources. Than again, among European nobility, was anything not?

Lafayette shrugged. "Anyone can learn, _non?_ Barring certain… bloodline difficulties."

The boy was clearly unwilling to discuss the matter of what he meant by _bloodline difficulties,_ so Washington merely nodded as if it was clear, and moved on.

Hamilton - talented, dedicated, willing to learn - made nearly as excellent an apprentice as he did an aide de camp; he casted in Hebrew rather than in Latin, but that was no real problem unless there was a more senior mage he wanted to impress someday, and Hamilton could impress even casting in Hebrew. Of course Washington had learned from a series of a tutors and had almost no model for how any of this was supposed to go.

To exacerbate the problem, when questioned further, Lafayette had claimed ignorance. He'd said that tutors were for those who showed talent, though, and when Washington had closed his eyes and concentrated there had been no flicker of that. Lafayette could have been hiding it - that was possible to do - but in order to manage it he would have had to have been a stronger mage than Washington himself, and to call that likelihood slim was generous.

Which is part of why he was surprised when Hamilton said, out of nowhere during a concentration exercise involving levitating small piles of pebbles, "Do you think anyone else has noticed that Lafayette's fae?"

Washington very carefully did not let his five pebbles fall from where they were hanging in the air. "Do you really think he is?"

Hamilton didn't visibly roll his eyes, but Washington could tell he wanted to. "He wraps his sword with fabric so he never has to touch iron. When he was shot at Brandywine he screamed until we got the bullet out, at which point he was completely fine. He says that in France, all nobility is trained in magic, yet he can do none himself. On the summer solstice it was as if a fever had taken him, he kept me and Laurens with him for most of the day." That last one had a multitude of implications, which Washington deliberately did not comment on or read into. Hamilton went back to levitating his pebbles. "And as if that weren't enough, his name means _the little fae._ I'd assumed you knew, at least."

Hamilton was right, it should have been obvious. Washington considered that information, still keeping one eye on the pebbles - wouldn't want to set a bad example, Hamilton had enough difficulties with precise control as it was.

Whichever Court Lafayette was a part of, it hadn't affected his abilities as a soldier. There was no reason to do anything in particular about it, except, perhaps, to do more to ensure he would have no contact with iron (and Washington winced in memory of how the boy had screamed at Brandywine, before they'd dug the bullet out - with knives, he realized, that were also steel. The poor boy hadn't mentioned it at all, and the moment the bullet was out he was up and walking again, but even so it was very nearly physically painful for Washington to think about. His boys should never scream like that, not his Hamilton, not his Lafayette, never.)

( _Where had that come from?_ Washington wondered for a moment, before banishing the thought entirely.)

It was another day and a half before he and Lafayette had enough privacy for him to bring it up.

"Just out of curiosity, are you Seelie or Unseelie?" Washington wasn't looking at Lafayette, so as not to make him feel as if this were an interrogation, but the tension in the room was suddenly palpable.

"Seelie," Lafayette said carefully. "How did you guess?"

Washington set his quill down and looked Lafayette in the eyes, which were vibrant red where they'd been glossy dark before. His glamours dropping, Washington assumed, and for a moment felt strangely proud to have proven himself worthy of such trust. "Hamilton pieced it together and assumed I had as well."

Lafayette nodded and set his quill down as well. "You know I did not inform you only out of a fear that you would -"

Washington interrupted him with a shake of his head. "It's all right. I understand, truly."

Lafayette smiled, a little shy and a little crooked but still breathtakingly beautiful.

For just a moment - whether because of the cooling spells or because of the swell in Washington's chest - the heat was not so unbearable.


End file.
